One Last Scar to Heal
by Freude
Summary: It's been several months since the end of the war, and with the end of the war comes an officer, Addler Huber, transferred to take R&R before returning home. Like Filicia, however, Addler hides painful memories away where he thought they were suppressed for good, and the end of war where both sides are intermingling more than ever gives those memories a prime chance to resurrect.
1. Chapter 1

"Here's your new quarters, the base, barracks, and HQ of the 1121st."

He looked at the large clock tower and the castle-like architecture which made up its walls. The clear distinct crenellations truly made this compound feel impregnable. One would have questioned if it had been here before the war, for its design was ancient to the point where such walls would not stand a bombardment by either artillery or tank, yet such flaws did not stop the illusion that it was built to withstand the wrath of God himself in all of its magnificent beauty. The name 'Clock Tower Fortress' seemed appropriate indeed.

He walked towards the bridge which separated the fortress from the rest of the city. He dared only take one step before coming to a halt, looking down towards the bottom at what looked to be a drop which one would not recover from. He instinctively looked back towards his destination, the other side, and grabbed the rails of the bridge as if it were about to come apart. He did not fear much, but heights were something which bothered him when bullets and shells could not.

_Come on, it's just a little bridge. Just look at the grand artwork as your make yourself across._

That is indeed what he did, small steps of cowardice eventually become steps of normality.

"Don't stay up too late!" his partner shouted to him from behind. He responded back with an equal sense of sport, shouting in return with an "Okay, mom". His acquaintance turned and went into the bowels of the city. He made it across and took one last look around, admiring the walls, before making his way inside. He passed the outer wall before coming to the doors which assumingly led indoors. There was a lady slumped in a chair, sleeping rather heavily and quite peacefully. The letter of his transfer said that there would be a guard to let him in at the late hour which he arrived in; he believed it was her.

It was with a sense of amusement and curiosity that he approached her, wondering if she would wake up from hearing his footsteps. When she did not, he decided he would have to wake her up if he wanted to sleep indoors. He gently poked her, steadily applying pressure with his incremental pokes until she _did_ arise from her slumber.

"Mmm...?"

It took her a moment to come to terms with her surroundings, wiping her eyes and looking at him with eyes which were hardly opened. He explained to her that he was transferred here, and she acknowledged sluggishly with a nod. Although he doubted her ability to maintain consciousness, she stood up and held the door open for him.

"Come with me"

The indoors were quite luxurious for what he had been accustomed to. He slightly expected a dungeon-like environment with walls made of concrete or stone, but instead they were furnished and decorated with a homely style. She led him down a short corridor, stopping at a small bedroom. She pointed and told him that he would be staying in there. He entered with her shutting the door behind him, it not being too long before hearing her go into her own room. He quickly took his clothes off, throwing them along with his gear into a corner, and got into bed to sleep as much as he could.

-The Next Morning-

He woke up early, earlier than he would prefer. He turned over to the other side of the bed, intending to sleep for another hour or two, but the sounds of breakfast and the thought of staying amongst the company of those who he currently had not even seen insisted that he sacrifice one form of comfort for another. It was with a sigh that he put on his trousers, undershirt, and coat, one buttoned button of the coat being the only thing which prevented his appearance from existing below the lowest levels of formality. He wiped his eyes and put on his glasses, slowly opening the door and hoping that it wouldn't creak. He was always anxious and unnerved when meeting new people.

All the party members which gathered around the table looked towards the source of the noise.

_Might as well stop dallying in this limbo of anxiety..._

He shyly came out from his room and shut the door behind him. He put his arms behind his back in a polite manner, an action which he only did when he was making a determined effort to be polite or when he was anxious, but usually those two motivations were intertwined with one another.

"I was transferred here, sorry for interrupting..." he tried to explain. The six members at the table responded with various reactions. One's eyes widened with excitement, the other cast a look of suspicion. One individual, recognized as the one who let him in last night, looked at him in a half-dead gaze before turning attention back to the food. The other three looked at him with hospitality.

"Ah, a newcomer!" a blond-haired lady said, clasping her hands together. "Come, grab a chair and sit." The transfer obliged and took acquiring a seat from a nearby table, placing it at an awkward corner of the table which was not built to serve seven persons. A plate was passed to him and he quickly began working on it with a hunger that did not discriminate against any type of food.

The woman who invited him over took to introducing herself and the others after she had finished her meal. "I'm Filicia Heidemann, captain of the 1021st platoon". He bowed and saluted before being quickly waved off. "We don't salute or have rank here, except when orders are given". She then pointed to the black-haired girl who had looked at him with a condemning eye. "This is Kureha Suminoya, our charming gunner."

"_Corporal _Kureha Suminoya!" she firmly clarified.

She pointed to the grey-haired girl who had let him in and stated that her name was one Noel Kannagi with the rank of sergeant. "Thank you for letting me in at such an hour" he told her. She acknowledged and once again turned back towards her food hoping that it would prove to be a better source of stimulation in order to keep her awake. Filicia's finger next landed on a brown-haired corporal named Kanata Sorami. She waved at him with enthusiasm. "I used to be new here not too long ago!"

"I'm not exactly new the army, but enthusiasm is always appreciated in my book" he said with a grin.

"This is Second-Lieutenant Rio Kazumiya" she said, pointing to a purple-haired women who looked to be of rough equal age to the captain. She acknowledged him with serious politeness. "Lastly," she said, pointing to the remaining member of the party, "is Aisha Ardora". "Guten Morgen" she said.

"B-bist du Römisch?" he asked with hesitation, a strong since of fear overpowering him. The confirmation of his fears fully realized when she confirmed that question. His body started shaking as he turned back to his food with a mere nod of acknowledgement. "Verstanden..." he said meekly.

"You speak Roman?" Kanata asked with surprise.

"Yeah, it started off as a personal interest and it found use when I joined the army. I'm not fluent by any means, but I've heard that I can be understood, so that's good I reckon". Filicia spoke up once more. "By the way, we haven't had the pleasure of knowing your name yet." He looked at her with affirmation. "Well," he said, "My name is Addler Huber" he spoke. "I was promoted to be a colonel right on the field when we were last in battle, the CO took a hit and was sent home...they haven't given any word on this 'promotion' so I still consider myself a first-lieutenant".

"Colonel? That's a pretty big task." Rio joined in. "I'm with you there. Command of an entire company is hard enough. Filing reports, keeping the boys in line and in good spirits...and now I'm in charge of an entire regiment, 1000 men ideally. God help me"

"That's not how a colonel is supposed to sound" Kureha chimed in, "you should be proud, ready to step it up a notch!"

"I can only imagine the bothersome task of having to deal with the job of getting on quartermasters to stop dallying and to get supplies in when they need to be in" he said to her, "and judging from what I've heard about this post, the quartermasters are don't do well for a five-member platoon. I'd feel more like an orderly than an officer."

"You can only wait and see, can't you?" Rio added with a wise man's touch.

With breakfast over, Kanata insisted to Addler that she show him around the town. Dying to do something interested, not the mention the fact that he took a liking to her personality, he accepted without much of a hassle. As he predicted, she was happy to spend some time with someone new. "Have you been done many times?" he asked her. "Not many times," she answered, "but each trip is just as fun as the last"

It didn't take long for them to get into town. "Place looks like it's part of some old villa" he said to her. Although he didn't show much interest on the outside, on the inside he was quite interested; he'd never seen any place like this in his whole life. The streets seemed to wind along the town, intersecting with one another in a rustic fashion, they seemed to weave in peculiar fashions in a manner which he was not accustomed to. That and the abundance of houses and buildings made it seem as though this was a maze to navigate.

"This town seems damn hard to navigate..." he spoke.

"I got lost a few times myself during my first few months!" she said with a blush. "But I somehow learned the streets and the layout."

"And what would that layout be?"

"There really isn't one, you just kinda have to memorize it, think of it like a puzzle game"

"Wonderful to know." He added with a sigh. "So, aside from being a maze, what's in the town? What kinds of shops, markets? Anything worth noting? Although in terms of navigation it's a dark bowel of confusion, the town is indeed rather beautiful, and a beautiful town surely has to have some beautiful attractions."

She immediately responded with stating that there was many things to keep one busy. A large market, a church and orphanage run by a caring nun, a small shop selling all kinds of glassworks, not to mention various outer shops which helped keep this city, to the surprise of Addler, very self-sufficient. Self-sufficiency was something which he could admire in any day in age, especially the current times where live had turned more harsh and difficult with 95% of the world being a barren wasteland.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "There's a new railroad connecting the town to the main railroad, or there's gonna be a new one. It's gonna connect this one to the railroad which I came on in. It's gonna make things a whole lot easier to get supplies in and out, and we can travel more! But as for now, we really only have our own little town to keep ourselves occupied, but that's enough for me!"

"I do admire your appreciation for the small things" he said with a smile. Truth be told he admired much more than simply her appreciation for small things, but also for her optimism and her outgoing nature to name another few. Was she a tad naïve and innocent? Perhaps, but he admired such innocence.

As they continued to walk to the lower part of town, he probed her on her journeys here, mainly because it was the only thing he could think of to talk about. "So how did you get here? There wasn't a railroad, right?"

"I got here by motorcycle" she said. "A courier took me, his name's Claus. I thought I'd fall out and break something, he was going so fast."

"What route did he take you by?"

"She pointed in front of them. "There's a mountain pass route down at the edge of town, I can show you if you want." Not really knowing what else to do, he agreed.

By the time they reached the edge of town, it was fast approaching dusk. She stopped in front of it, pointing to it and acting as if she was revealing a magnificent marvel with a "Ta-da!"

He observed it for a while but soon turned his attentions to the soldiers, the hundreds of soldiers crowded both in small huddles and big masses around the bridge which led into town. Dozens of small campfires illuminated the grounds which they occupied, cheers laughs and common conversation emitting from the large crowd of persons. Many of them were already cooking something, from what he could tell. Detained? Refugees?

"Who're they?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, they're Romans. The entire Roman army almost did battle with ours not too far from town; they're still awaiting transport. The trucks come in every week and take them to somewhere."

"R-Roman?" he asked nervously, his eyes widening.

"Yes," she confirmed, "why?"

Addler immediately turned around and insisted that they leave. "Come, it's gonna get dark soon. I don't wanna get demerits. We're basically AWOl, aren't we?"

"But we can leave for however long as long as we inform Filicia she said in a confused manner.

"Come..." he said once more, tugging on her soldier. "It's...come"

Although she didn't understand the hassle, she agreed and followed him back in the other direction, his hand loosely attached to her arm in case she started to straggle along. He did not feel comfortable in the slightest hanging around them, he felt that he might as well be humiliated in front of his friends and loved ones in some juvenile prank, for the anxiety and stress was one and the same. He walked fast, not being but a hare's hair away from jogging.

"Kamerad!"

He stopped, turning back to see one soldier waving at Kanata and him. He couldn't imagine why, he had no clue who he was and had no desire at all to find out who he was. "Some of them are quite happy the war's over" she said, "Some are quite the talkative type"

Addler started shaking, suffocating her hand in his grip as if she were about to fall off a cliff. It was with a pull that he firmly messaged that their retreat would continue. He started muttering to himself, Kanata only able to make out some strange gibberish. She was quite concerned about what was going on with him, though she said nothing in the belief that he would return to normal once they left this part of town; she could inquire then if she desired to.

"Kameraaad!" came another shout from behind.

"Colonel," Addler said, giving him his sword. "I resign my commission.

"What?" he asked, wondering if the man had gone insane.

"You heard me, I resign my commission"

"Why in the name of the Gods would you do that? You're crazy! There's no need to-"

"I will _not _shoot these men"

The surrounding soldiers, both those from his company and those from others looked on at this most peculiar scene. A mere first lieutenant back-talking a colonel. Demerit? Court martial? What would come of it? Either way, most looked on as if it was a boxing match.

"You speak lunacy, lieutenant! How could you deny your superior officer?"

Addler was in no mood for a quarrel. He held his sheathed sword up to him to the point where the colonel backed up for the fear that it would slam into his face. He said not a word to his superior, simply staring at him with eyes which, although usually peaceful and jovial, now bore resentment and disdain.

"First lieutenant Addler Huber, you _will _carry out your orders. If not, I will see it you will be court martialed for insubordination. You know the penalty for such"

"Bitte!" came a cry from behind the two men and the crowd. The cry came from one of three soldiers who were backed against a wall which used to be part of a train terminal. Another cry resounded from behind. "Ich bitte sie! Wir augeben!". Despite the cries and sniffles of the three condemned, the fight raged on between the two officers.

Addler reached for his pistol before his sergeant intervened, rendering both his arms inoperable by his strong grip. "Don't do anything stupid, Addie"

"B-bitte! Schießen sie uns nicht! Kamerad! Kamerad!"

"Fine!" the lieutenant erupted, putting an end to the tension which captivated two entire regiments and seemed to put the entire war for them on hold. "I'll carry out your damn orders. Gods have mercy on you"

The colonel smiled as his subordinate waved a small detail to take aim. "You'll be promoted to colonel, lieutenant".

Kanata Sorami did all she could think to do to comfort her new friend. He had spent the past five minutes in her arms crying and mumbling incoherently after he had collapsed unto his knees. "Addle, it's gonna be ok!" she said with fear in her voice. Looking around for a solution while rubbing his head, she tried to calm him down. These efforts were mainly futile, for he failed to respond to her questions and words of encouragement besides the occasional and barely-intelligible "I'm not shooting anyone!"

By now a small crowd of Roman soldiers and passing civilians had gathered. Each crowd member conversed with one another as to the cause of the scene. Was it sickness or seizure? Was he a lunatic? Despite the strong determination of the onlookers to get to the bottom of this, they mostly lacked any motivation to help the two entities of entertainment. Kanata pleaded with someone to help carry him to the only person she knew who could help, that being the local nun at the church. Two soldiers, including the one who had flagged them down in the first place, stepped into the ring to carry him. Thus the party of four went up towards the church, Kanata close to panic as she followed close beside her ill friend.


	2. Chapter 2: Awakening

One lone survivor, if the other two weren't still alive, dared to squirm. The executioner looked towards his superior, his colonel, before looked back towards the sufferer who destroyed his last hope of survival through his own ignorance. A weak voice ordered the struggler to be finished. The lieutenant wanted this to be over as soon as possible, preferably within this second. What was intended to be a smartly-executed order was immediately degraded into confusion when members who had been hastily assembled into a firing squad detail looked at each other with hesitation, not knowing who would finish him off.

"Kill the bastard!" the NCO screamed, pointing his pistol at the detail. It was at this that even the colonel himself, a man who was not exactly known for being lax on discipline, was taken aback; despite this unexpected display, he kept silent. The firing squad themselves took one last look at one another, fear and desperation showing in their faces before they all took up to aim and fired in one unified volley whose level of perfection was high enough to cause one to wonder if they had been trained in rain, snow, and shine to do so.

The executioner holstered his weapon and waved the squad back into the mass of his own company.

"Carry on" his superior said, taking his own companies and moving in the direction of the firefights.

After saluting, the first-lieutenant looked at his own company, all of whom were shaken and disturbed both by the actions of themselves and the actions of their officer. The officer shared the same unnerved complexion, being disturbed by the actions of the entire Army. They stood there in silence for what seemed like half an hour, a silence which follows behind an event which demands respect and mourning, an event in which all present are humbled into knowledge that they have just witnessed a story which should be taken to mind and to heart as if there is some wise life-lesson to be learned from it, as if each one present was filled with a new perspective on how they viewed that around them.

It is not the feeling of a funeral, for even at the end comes the time of basking in the funny and humorous memories of the departed. It is not the feeling one receives when one is caught doing wrong, for after the speechless denial and loss of words comes either the continuation of such bad behavior or, in some cases, the desire to change and do better.

It is the feeling which gnaws at one's heart and soul, a burning desire to right the wrong of what they have witnessed, of what they have heard, of what they have seen, and knowing full well that such desires are, although ideal, simply impractical. It is the feeling of being made aware of the sins of the depraved, knowing that such sins have already been committed to the point where one is left only to regret that they ever took place. The lost lives of those three condemned, unattainable and unable to be revived, leaves many disconnected from the current happenings of the world. The wrongdoings of the twisted leaves such a shock that one finds it hard to comprehend that it simply just occurred. It leaves many in a speechless gaze in which the brain shuts down, as if even a hallmark of nature's beauty and innovation, the brain, which has created all that has been strived for and destroyed all that has been created, must pause to reexamine the passing of the latest events.

"Fifth through ninth platoons, go and tail the colonel, support if need be, second through fourth, you're with me, stay close. First platoon, you're at my side, don't wander."

His men disbanded from an informal huddle into their proper platoons. "Eugen!" he called to his sergeant. His subordinate turned to look at him, the blank stare still upon his face, ready to receive an order, any order that would help to put some purpose into their presence in this town and to get their minds off of what just occurred.

"This never happened."

"I'll spread the word" he replied with a nod, turning back to form with his own platoon, the first. From the look upon his face, it was clear to tell that he also believed that the events of this day should be wiped from memory of all those who were present. Everyone in the company wanted to get out the town, the place had already been polluted with the acts of the sick and twisted, the memories of what occurred leaving a dark veil over all who dared to enter the city limits with a permanence equal to that of the victim's teeth which will forever mark the spot of their execution.

"Addler!"

The lieutenant responded, looking back towards his friend, thinking it had come from him, but he kept on his way, as did everone else.

"Wake up, come on!"

Weary eyes opened, surroundings being hazy and blurry to the point where they all came together into one ugly mass of color. He felt something strangle his body, rendering it unmovable. Needless to say, an individual who had just woken up in a foreign place with no knowledge of how he ended up there was not in the mood to be attacked. He shook somewhat violently in an attempt to get free of whatever was attacking him.

"Addler, it's me! Kanata?"

His struggles stopped as he paused before letting his muscles relax, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. "Can I...?" he began, trying to move his arms. She complied and let him carry out his desires, moving hand to wipe the crud off his eyes so that he would no longer be hindered by the eyesight of a drunkard.

"Oh...heh...w-where am I?"

"You're at the church" she said with a concerned voice. "You were taken here after your...episode."

"Episode?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

"You know, what happened last night."

"I wish I did know. I woke up with the eyesight of a drunk man and now you're telling me I have the memory of one?"

"You were crying and saying things, I couldn't understand you. You had me worried, but I'm happy you're better now!"

The lieutenant shrunk down in his bed as he let the covers advance over his chin. He didn't know how to respond. "Thanks..." he said, embarrassed like he had never been before. "Sorry if I caused an incident."

"Mishio-chan" she asked a passing girl. The girl turned to her attentively. "Can you go tell Yumina that he's woken up?" The girl nodded and skipped in the opposite direction in which she was previously headed.

"You didn't cause anything. I caused more of an incident, I was worried that you were ill or something."

"I've never had this happen before." he shyly admitted. Deep down inside, he had a pretty good idea of exactly what it was, but he hoped to the Gods that it would go away if he simply denied its existence. He didn't want to put up with anything like flashbacks or breakdowns. He had heard from others that you never really get over that sort of thing.

"What time is it?" he asked her.

"Early morning. Six. You snapped out of whatever was going on and fell fast asleep not too long after we brought you here.

"We?"

"A few of the Romans helped, you were too heavy for myself. I should become stronger, it's not good for a soldier to lack strength..."

"I see..." he replied. He honestly didn't know how to feel about being manhandled by two Romans, much less know how to articulate those thoughts into a response of any value, so he decided to change the subject.

"This is a church?"

"Church, daycare center, orphanage, hospital for the sick."

"That's quite-"

"You're up!" a woman said as she came in and saw her patient. She bore hair which was some type of dark-brown and a formal looking dress. Religious necklaces and bracelets adorned her neck and wrist. Her eyes were dark blue and almost serene to look at.

"I'm up, a bit confused by the events of the last 12 hours, but up"

She walked beside his bed, a hand on his, as she expressed how grateful she was to see him well. She said that there was no injuries to his body and that there's not much to do besides give a few blessings due to the fact that they only deal with physical injury, be it illness or otherwise.

He did find her to be a nice lady. He wasn't quite fond of the extremely devout, but should she prove to be a loving lady of grace then such shortcomings would most certainly be overlooked for an otherwise flawless personality.

"Yumina, he's new to the unit, got transferred." Kanata said to her

She blushed with a chuckle, "I'm sure you're more than happy to meet someone new."

Kanata nodded enthusiastically. "So, he's okay?"

"Yes, he's perfectly fine, at least from what we would be able to help him with. If it's any form of consolation..." she added, pulling something out of her pocket, "we can give you this as a sort of good-luck charm"

It was a religious necklace with what Addler assumed to be the Gods they worshipped. He didn't quite know them, as he came from a land in which many people worshipped many different Gods to the point where he never really bothered to learn much about any of them. Despite his skepticism of another God which even he himself had never heard of before, he accepted it. "My names Yumina" she informed him as she offered him her hand. He accepted the offer and got up on his feet with her help.

"I'd love to stay and get to know you" he told her, "but I'm sure you're quite busy with your duties, and I don't wanna be taking up another bed, so I do believe I should take my leave." Yumina nodded to this. "Perhaps we can find another time to become aquainted."

It was with a polite bow and a short blessing that she led them to the door. Kanata went out first. Addler was about to follow suit before he stopped and looked at her hesitantly, unsure whether to bother with saying anything or not to. "Y-yumina…" he shyly emitted with a clarity that was barely intelligible.

With an attentive look which confirmed that she was listening, he continued on. "A-are the Gods...forgiving of murderers?"

"All of those who repent are forgiven of their trespasses," she said, "they have protected us from the end of the world and now they shall protect us from falling victim to the evil of this world. If you are repentant, then yes, you shall be forgiven."

He felt slightly disheartened by this answer. He didn't really believe much in their Gods, mainly because he had only found out about their gods less than half an hour ago, so he was reluctant to depend on them for salvation and for the lifting of the burden of guilt which was beginning to surface.

True, he didn't quite expect an answer which _didn't_ reference their Gods, but he did have hopes that she would provide some wise words to ease the pain which could not be healed with herbs or bed rest, the pain of the mind and of the soul.

He nodded slightly and took his leave, following Kanata back to the Clock Tower Fortress

-An Hour Later-

The reception which Addler received when making it back was mild. Everyone there showed some appreciation that he had recovered from whatever had happened last night, yet they still proceeded to treat the day as if it was any other day. Food was still made, the usual forms of passing time still persisted.

The only person who showed a persistent sign of concern was Felicia. He thought it to be weird, considering she was the most senior officer and therefore assumingly the most experienced, however he was never one to question sympathy when he received it.

The presence of concern was made official when she asked him to follow her to her office. "I'll be back" he said to Kanata, who he had been conversing with. She shut the door behind them and paced over behind her desk, looking out the lone window.

"You like Kanata?"

"Y-yes...she's a very...enthusiastic girl"

"I know, sometimes a bit too enthusiastic, but that's Kanata. Naïve and very enthusiastic."

He was happy to see that another person confirmed his view of her, although it could be said that he admired those traits of hers more than anyone else in the platoon did. Felicia went on to ask if he had bonded with any others. He said he had not, explaining how she was an easy one to bond with due to her out going nature, another point which his captain agreed with.

"You should talk with Rio. She's an interesting character. She can teach you how to play a song or two on the trumpet if you've the patience and the spare time. A bit of the serious type, but still a joy to have around."

"Is this why you've called me here?" he asked curiously. This was a question which was at the forefront of his mind ever since he was called out, 'why am I here?' being a question he was simply dying to ask. He knew for a fact that he wasn't in trouble, for he hadn't done anything to cause trouble. Felicia didn't seem like a stickler for military etiquette.

"If only it was" she said with a sigh. She turned around to face him, bearing a look of curiosity, almost playful, and yet all the more serious in nature. "Your 'illness', do you know what it is?"

He nodded shyly. "I have an idea, but...I'm a bit afraid to consider it a possibility."

"Humor me, please" she said with a smile. "You may find you're not the only one."

"I- do I have shellshock? Gods...I pray to 'em all that I don't, yet I can't help but feel that-"

"It's okay" she said with comfort. "I have it too, or I had it up until about half a year ago." Truth be told, the lieutenant _was _slightly relieved to her he was not the only one around with the ailment, but it didn't quite help him remedy it.

"Thank you...I just wish I knew how to get over it. So is that why I'm here? A little pep talk?"

Her smile turned to a look of almost sadness. Her sympathetic voice turned to that of firmness and seriousness. "That's only part of it."

"What?"

"I'm sending you to a place where you can get help."

"I don't want to leave!" he said in a sudden outburst. His voice wavered as he became emotional, fearful of the attachments which he had made with those whom he had known not even a week. "Please, I'm fine, I don't wanna be transferred, please!"

"Relax," she said, her caring tone returning once more. Addler breathed a sigh of relief as he was able to regain some of his composure. "You're not being transferred, you're just going on a little field trip. You'll come back here and be with us again when you're done."

"I'm glad I'm not being moved out."

"You're family now," she said with a smile, "we don't disown family. We took Kanata in with open arms as soon as we met her, even if she arrive late and in a mess; we'll do the same for you."

Addler smiled for the first time that day. Although he was in a pretty unhappy mood, he could at least find solace that he was going to be accepted with open arms, at least by Felicia and Kanata. With that issue out of the way, he inquired into what she had said.

"What kind of 'field trip'?"

"They're opening up a new military hospital outside of Seiz. I'm sending you there."

"I...-" he began in protest

"You're only going to be there for three months. That's the minimal stay time and I specifically asked for it. If they keep you longer than you can rest assured Rio and I won't be taking kindly to it."

"I don't know if it'll do me any good...I know what sanitariums are like, I used to intern at one when I was into my studies...there's no compassion there, only drugs to dull the pain and insanity and the loneliness which comes from endless hours of solitary confinement. Not to mention I honestly don't think I'm that _disturbed_.

She put a hand on his shoulder, looking into his eyes which refused to look at hers. He knew she cared, yet he knew even more than psychiatric wards were the closest form of hell and neglect in which a human could hope to experience.

"I would've gone if such opportunities were available; they didn't offer such programs when I was fighting my own demons. You can't do it on my own."

That hit a nerve. "And resort to what!?" he shouted, "Being drugged into a state of delusion to where I'm no longer bothered by the pain which I should be getting _therapy _for? Being denied my rights to privacy and decency as a human being? Locked in a cell as if I'm a mad man!? Drugs are not therapy! I've seen psychologists at work! All those miserable bastards!"

Felicia stood there silent. She understood the anger which he felt, for she had anger when she was in her spot too, however it was not anger at another but anger at her own self for daring to live while her loved ones had not, to have the nerve to lick her wounds while others were gasping for life.

"I can fight my own battle." he continued once more, pacing around the room with heavy feet. "I need to, for my own sake, I can't just depend on the drugs or the therapy to make me happy or to fix me."

"You're saying there's no such thing as pure therapy in psychology?"

He looked at her question with both irritation and discontent.

"There is, but the percentage of therapists who actually refrain from drugs and employ client-based therapy are...far from enough."

Felicia still kept up her argument, her attitude firm but never turning into impatience or irritation. "Are you saying there's not chance at all that you'd get any sort of help? Surely there has to be at least _one _good doctor there, at least _one _good nurse. There have been plenty of people which have been helped in immense ways by therapy and treatment which could only be given at such a hospital."

"Felicia...physical health is one thing. Yes, some physical ailments are psychologically caused, but the type of shellshock which is most common, not the twitching or the other physical symptoms, but the nightmares, the flashbacks, and the memories...that's entirely psychological. It's hard to cure, immensely hard to cure, hard to treat. Many a doctor goes in, having a burning desire to help people, to make them sane again, simply because he cares..."

"Isn't that a good think?" she questioned.

His head lowered as he exhaled a sigh. "Most of 'em end up having that beautiful desire to heal and help snuffed out when they realize how difficult and complicated the mentally ill are. Their desire to heal fades after the first few months away just as the young boy soldier's desire to be a hero fades away during the first few battles. If their patient a reasonably sane man with a few disorders or ailments who needs some therapy to reach the top of the mountain, anxiety, borderline depression, shellshock, the like, they'll only lose their desires when they lose their passion for the job itself. If you're forced to work with the insane man who is more likely to end his life than to end his disorders, you'd learn a certain hatred for the ones you're supposed to care for."

"And you say the type of doctor you'd be paired with is?"

"Only the twisted and the depraved deny their fellow man the right to live life with a sober mind. If I wanted to take away the pain through a lack of mental awareness I'd be spending my time in a bar. I can't stand the type, all they do is give medicine, except in some cases it's shove down your throat. You want my honest opinion? Forgive me, but they're pathetic, lowly excuses for sentient beings who masquerade as real doctors.

Silence finally settled in the room.

"Addler..." she finally spoke.

"I'm sorry...I've just...being in such an atmosphere would make me feel even worse. I'm not just saying that because I don't wanna go, I feel like its genuinely bad for my health, and ironically my sanity."

"Please," she continued, "give it a try. For me. You've brought many valid points, but I know in my heart that there's one good person there. There's simply got to be."

He let a small smile break through his distraught expression. "Kanata's said you were always were one to hold on to your hopes, she said she's never seen you act violently towards another until you took some rogue hostage after he threatened to execute your prisoner and start the war up again. I hope that if your hopes run out, you'll find that volatile determination to help get me out."

She nodded with agreement.

He looked into her eyes which showed not only care and concern but now a hint of regret. Regret, perhaps, that she had not been given the chances which she herself was now trying so hard to give to him, the ability to seek treatment? She still had occasional relapses every half a year or so, or even two or three. She never learned to cope with them besides learning from her own self about what works and what doesn't.

"I don't question my existence anymore, something which was brought to mind because of...what happened to me"

Addler looked on, tried of arguing but listening.

"But", she continued, "I still question how to put the memories behind me. They're still with me. I just hope that you going there would give you something which I never had: A professional's advice on how to put such things at rest.

A long silence followed as Addler thought and thought about what he should do. Was he right in believing that being in an institution would be harmful to his well being, not being able to see a friend for months, possibly being surrounded by disturbed individuals and apathetic staff?

Or, he wondered, did his CO have a point? Could he somehow find closure within the confines of such an institution? Would he somehow be able to find someone who _would _give him the helping hand that he desired, or at least a few wise words? Perhaps; besides, he knew all too well that Felicia would probably order his release the minute she caught wind of him suffering some detrimental effects of being kept there, he trusted her and her desire to save a 'family member' What had he to lose then?

"I-I'll do it..." he said, breaking the stillness of the atmosphere.

Felicia smiled, "Thank you. Besides," she said with a chuckle, "Captain's orders."


	3. Chapter 3: Nurse

Addler walked down the hallway with a curious mind. Adjacent to him was a nurse who, by protocol, had to escort him to his destination. It had taken him a _very _long time for him to get adjusted to having to be escorted like a criminal and treated as though he were a wire waiting to snap; being mistrusted for little to no reason always irritated him to no end, and even in a mental hospital where one had a good reason to mistrust a patient, he still felt a biting since of degradation by being put into a system which, unlike prison, recognized little to no distinction between 'inmates' who were likely to present a low, medium, or high security risk; everyone was one uniform mass.

The hallway which they walked down was a small one, this one and others like it being there to support the large, main hallways of the facility. Gurneys were parked on both sides at various points, nurses and other staff members passed them by as they made their way. They almost had to walk in a single file line due to the thin nature of the passage. As they neared their destination, a place which he hadn't been to before, he slowly grew more anxious and sometimes even fearful.

The circumstances were little different from others, so fear did indeed become a competing emotion within his brain. Even when he found himself in a situation which was entirely positive, the anxiety of such positivity often overwhelmed him to the point that he feared its arrival. What was the reason for his fear today? Someone had come to visit him.

For the last two months he had spent the entirety of his days within the facility of the Semaine Military Hospital, more specifically the rather large compound it had for mental cases. He had come here under orders, intending to endure whatever horrors he found himself exposed to, and even up until now he was primarily doing that and that alone. He had long ago made a commitment to care only about getting by, week by week, day by day, and some days it was indeed a struggle.

To say he was content with his forced residence would not be exactly accurate, however he wasn't necessarily resistant to it either. His passive-aggressive attitude let him avoid any conflicts with the staff or any other patients, not that he interacted with them much, while allowing him to covertly express his distaste. He took on the form of a high school student who was enrolled in a lack-luster and genuinely worthless course. Was he passive and cooperative to the 'teacher'? Yes. Did he refrain from causing any sort of trouble, realizing the futility of wasting effort on a wasteful class? Indeed he did, but did he take every opportunity he could to procure his own entertainment which, although not necessarily in violation of any rules, certainly was sacrificing the opportunities for 'learning'? Certainly!

Such actions were largely harmless, however, as there truly was no 'learning' to be sacrificed at all. He had quickly confirmed that he wouldn't be receiving the care which he believed would truly be beneficial to him. Although the staff was not entirely neglectful as he had feared, they were not terribly involved or concerned with the mental well being of their patients and the progress (or lack there of) they were making; despite his disappointment, he had a semblance of understanding with the acknowledgment that a staff-to-patient ratio of 1 to 3 left little time for intensive and meaningful interactions with each patient on an individual level.

With such confirmations in mind, he merely saw this as an introduction to his recovery, an ineffectual course which would be followed by the real beginnings of healing. Ironically, he saw his best bets of healing with his friends. He had always held the belief that a caring friend can be infinitely more helpful than an apathetic doctor. He merely looked forward to the day when he would be released, when he would finally be able to _truly _start the healing process with people who, in his opinion, were the true doctors.

He did, however, find one silver lining which he could take solace in: medical theory had evolved to see mental cases, at least non-violent ones, as individuals which should benefit from a more relaxed model of protocol. Having been quite the opposite of what he experienced as an intern in a no-name psychiatric ward, such advances meant patients were scarcely confined to their rooms, often being allowed outside to absorb the sun's rays, and they were often encouraged to interact with fellow patients. Addler did very much enjoy this lax rulebook, taking advantage of the outdoors when it was sunny outside.

He did not, however, take advantage of interacting with others. He had begun to realize after a week or more of incarceration that the majority of people in the compound were not the talkative type, at least not in the logical or coherent sense. Those who were in worse shape than he often either withdrew completely or invested themselves entirely into their own overt lunacy; those in equal or better shape than he were quite reluctant, just as he was, to involve himself with the rest of the mob. Thus, he mainly kept to himself, only conversing when conversed with and only giving the same amount of friendliness and chatter which was gifted to him.

Thus, a reclusive attitude which refrained from bad behavior and attempting new friendships was the attitude of his stay. He was not overly interactive with either staff or patient, but also not necessarily reclusive to the point where he avoided contact. He listened to the occasional spout of conversation from the random patient beside him, and he also, admittedly, pleasantly welcomed it as long as it wasn't being emitted from the mouth of a mad man. He fed off such energy as much as he could, for even he knew at the back of his head, as much as he tried to deny it, that he wouldn't make it through his stay in solitude.

They stopped at a door which, unlike the doors in the majority of the building, was made out of wood and possessed a window, unlike the metal doors which were more akin to jail cells in a prison. He noted that the room number was 421 with a sign above which read "Visitation". His escort took out a large ring of keys and spent some time trying numerous ones until the correct one was discovered, opening the door and allowing them in.

"You'll have up to two hours to meet," she said, "you can fetch a staff member if you want to be returned to the main block; your visitor may also do the same". She overlooked a small notepad which she obtained from her back pocket and looked it over with an expression of thought.

"Hmm, ah, yes! You're gonna be looking for panel #5"

With that last bit of instruction she emitted a formal wave before exiting through the door which they just entered through. With her absence Addler was able to observe the room itself. It was rather simplistic. The room was full of nothing more than 30 or so tables with a staff members posted at some of the corners for what was assumed to be for security and supervision. Usually, he would have been rather pessimistic in complaining about how there wasn't much privacy between everyone, however he soon came to lose such negative ambitions when his eyes glanced over towards his his panel.

Sitting there, with a blank expression of boredom and awkwardness, was _her_. Granted, he got off to a pretty rough start with her when they first met, but he was somehow able push the anxiety and fear out of his mind to make room for excitement and joy. He was terribly happy to see someone from his unit, overcome to the point where he suddenly found himself walking over towards her. Despite his sudden and unpredicted sense of new found bravery, his eyes still darted in another direction when they met hers.

He sat down in front of her, unable to weaken his smile to anything less than a small grin as he said hi with an equally eager voice. "I was wondering if they forcefully transported you back to Rome; happy to see they didn't."

She smiled and nodded, "I've come to be another little member of the platoon. Noel ensured my place as a family member more than anyone."

"I-it's Aisha, right?"

"Ja"

Although he expected Kanata to be the most likely to visit him, as he was perhaps the closest to her and vice-versa, he found himself face-to-face with the Roman who unnerved him to no end whenever they encountered one another, whose conversations he begged to end and whose glaring eyes he tired to escape. Yet, despite the paranoid nature in which he viewed her, such feelings seemed to be washed away by the knowledge that _she _had come to see him after two months of being around no one he knew or cared to know.

"What brings you here?" he asked her. He knew the basis, which was that she had come to visit him, but as to why she came when no one else did, he did wish to inquire.

"I came to see you" she answered

"Yes, and I am terribly grateful that you _have _come to see me, but I do wonder, why have you come alone? In my opinion we haven't had the most prosperous relationship; you're quite honestly the last person I'd expect to come."

It was with a sigh that she rested her chin upon her hand which was supported by the table placed between them. "Felicia told me about why you're here. There's three of us which know your ailment all too well: Felicia, Noel, and myself. Felicia's busy filing a company report so we'll have food to eat and fuel to burn for the next month, and Noel is, well..."

"Slipping in and out of consciousness as she dreams the day away?"

She nodded with a blush. "We all know her too well."

"So you came to help me?"

She affirmed the question. He did believe that she possessed a unique circumstance which no one else he knew possessed: being Roman. A friend in uniform can't exactly match a friendly enemy when one's problems stem from exactly that. He was confident about being her sincerity, however his own sincerity in trusting her completely was at the very least quite questionable.

He smiled once more, "I need a friendly Roman in m'life"

She smiled as she readjusted herself into a position with suggested she was more open for conversation. "Felicia said you weren't too optimistic about these kinds of places; I've kinda been worried about you being over here."

"Well," he replied, "The place itself is boring and the nature of solitude is a bit oppressive, but I can assure that the solitude is the result of my own doings. Mainly just leaves boredom as a genuine side affect."

"Sounds like you're handling it alright"

"Luckily I am, but it's a day-by-day struggle for me." he confided, "Although I love my alone time, you could probably tell from what you've seen of me as of yet that I usually take every chance I can to interact with my friends. The people here aren't the kind of friends that I'd like to make."

"Are they violent?" she asked with a hint of concern.

"No, just wahnsinn, but again, not the kind of friends you'd want to have. Lunacy isn't a very appealing trait."

They both chuckled at the remark.

As their spurt of laughter dragged to an end, she began to notice his rather gaunt appearance. He had gray bags under his eyes from lack of sleep; such impurities made his entire figure look rather bleak.

"You don't look to be in good health."

"They took away my medication; I need it to sleep. I've been an insomniac since childhood."

A long silence followed as Addler retired from an open posture, slouching into his chair as he rested his head on his hands which were placed upon the table, looking down at the wooden table as he tried to collect his thoughts. He finally began to realize that perhaps she should confide in her what he was beginning to feel more and more as every day passed by, a rising feeling of discomfort which yearned to be let loose so that it might be known. He knew he could trust her.

"Aisha, you want to know the truth?" he asked her.

She looked at him with curiosity, her nod barely noticeable.

"I've found that this place holds little for me here. I'm not being helped here"

"They don't have good doctors here?"

"They just prescribe medication to make more calm, they don't really care to delve deep into my past. I don't really like shrinks anyway, although you need to make a livin', I kind of find it unnerving to think that one earns money from helping others. Figured it'd be easy to become corrupt."

"They charge you here!?" she asked surprised.

"No, but I've had such an image in my head for a long time, and it's hard to see them in any other light."

"Don't you think you're being stubborn?" she asked."

"Perhaps," he said with a smile he couldn't hide, "but...I don't really feel comfortable opening up to most people...shrinks have all the knowledge, they have coping strategies, but they can't exactly relate"

She put a hand on his.

"Can't you simply do both?"

He sighed. "I can be stubborn, and I reckon this is another example. This atmosphere is...suffocating me. Makes me feel like there's something wrong with me. I'm not deranged or twisted, I'm not psycho"

She look at him with a quick glance before shunning her gaze away in embarrassment; her expression, although brief, silently argued that perhaps he should reexamine his statement. He was here for a reason, after all.

"You interned at a place like this, didn't you? Didn't you have aspirations of being a good therapist?"

He looked up at her, she looked at him. He finally returned her previous favor and took her hand; he felt like she could understand him when very few did not. Had she begun to grasp him? Could she truly be the one person who could feel for what he thought, felt, desired, and wanted to be? Was she one to understand his previous ambitions and his current dreams of life?

"Yes," spoke he in a low and quiet voice. "I felt like I was the most aspiring psych in the world. I wanted to help. I knew my weaknesses, how I could easily be destroyed in such a profession where you're forced to delve into the mind of the depressed, suicidal, insane, et cetera. I still wanted to be there for others, either through ignorance or pure dreams of hope...I wanted to be a _caring _therapist, not just one who analyzes and prescribes like your standard scientist. I had aspired to such things, unfortunately, I kinda..."

Aisha looked at him with another expression of concern and curiosity. She probed him further in a way which bore neither condemnation or judgment, but merely in a desire for answers. "Hmm?"

"A key point in therapy, or any kind profession where you're inclined to help others, such as nursing, you're heavily encouraged to not develop attachments to your patients. You'd be setting yourself up for disaster, grief, overwhelmed with sadness. I understand why many do that, yet I still can't help but hate it; emotional connection is beautiful, at least in my opinion...a psych who doesn't put emotion into his work makes me-"

A nurse stopped by, interrupting their conversation which had drawn them both into a sort of alternate realm in which all that was around them seemed to melt away and disappear up until now.

"Time's up, I'm afraid" she said.

Addler looked back to Aisha. "Please," he said, "tell Felicia to consider getting me out of here."

"I don't know" she said to him, watching him get up and place himself beside his escort. He asked her once more, a hint of desperation in his voice as he made his second attempt. "Aisha...perhaps you're beginning to know me. I may be stubborn-"

"You are," she added

"But...have I not made a decent case?"

As he was ushered away by the nurse, he looked back to see her in her own train of thought, reflecting over possibly what would be her course of action.

He anxiously made his way back to his block, hoping she would honor his request.


	4. Chapter 4: Home

"We're here" the chauffeur said bluntly with a voice so soft that it withered away with breeze of the wind. He undid his seat belt and turned to her, the direction of his head being the only indication that he was acknowledging her presence. Just like what he did with most individuals, his eyes were diverted way from hers in an ever-present sign of both respect and shyness. They set there still for a moment or two; she had yet to undo her seat belt.

"Thanks for the ride, Noel"

She turned to him and nodded, relinquishing herself from the leather strap which tightly set upon her breast as he stepped out and stretched himself after a decently-long car ride, wiggling his legs which had fallen asleep in the small, cramped car. While he waited for her to accompany him, he pulled the scarf under his mouth and unbuttoned the buttons of his winter coat. Coincidentally, he was forced to pull out a handkerchief as he sneezed from the poor weather.

The weather was indeed as it always was when another year was born into infancy: cold, windy, and bitter. The skies were gray most days, today was no different. The days always become dull and bleak in the winter, not only in color but also in the atmosphere of the world which one is surrounded by. Chills, bleakness, and sickness were hallmarks which he had come to be acquainted with since his youth. He immediately regretted making himself vulnerable to the icy wind which pierced through skin and bone, forcing himself to utter a choice word as he buttoned his coat once more and faced the ground to prevent the snow from falling down on his face. It had always seemed to him that the presence of snow made the air seem so much more colder. He could vaguely remember being content with weather which was below zero, however how often the weather seemed to turn to that of a tundra whenever snow fell! He turned around to monitor the progress which his friend was making, glad that he would finally be able to escape the harshness of the outside now that she was walking towards him.

He joined her as she passed him, taking care to rub his hands together and to thaw them out with hot breath. Noel's scarf was finally being put to use once more as it was pulled up above her nose as she pursued her own means of keeping warm. The ground crunched as they walked along the path which was not cleared of the snowfall Footprints adorned the near compound, Addler thinking an ideal excuse for such would be for the task of gathering firewood. Judging from the fact that it was still snowing rather heavily, they had to be fresh. The trees added to the wintry, bleak atmosphere as they presented their dead skeletons to the world for all to see. He had seen birds around even during the coldest days, he had even seen flocks flying by, their honking alerting him and all around that they were flying out to an unknown destination. Perhaps such birds were always present during the winter, but the talk about the world changing, and the "end of days" approaching made him truly aware of it for the first time. He had spent the majority of his time for the past two months indoors, and now he would once again be greeted with the joys of greeting a frosty and frozen morning on a regular basis. He didn't mind the cold so long as he was properly clothed, but ice always proved to be a hindrance to his pursuits and tasks in more ways than one. Frozen windshield, frozen ground, frozen everything.

He took no time in achieving salvation. He looked at the stone labyrinth which looked like a cozy cottage with its frosted windows and warm smoke rising from its chimney. He put aside his anxiety which had built up from not seeing any of the building's occupants for over a month, turning the near-frozen nob of the handle and opening the door. He turned back to usher to his friend to go ahead of him. He was not _that_ competent.

She looked at him curiously.

"Kinda nervous, as I haven't seen you lot in a while. Would you mind leading the way?" he asked with an usher towards the door.

In her usual manner, she nodded with a harmless, meek grunt of affirmation, proceeding to walk in; Addler followed suit. The warm atmosphere which felt to be almost that of a sauna compared to the cruel temperature of the outdoors hit them like an iron. Once again, he felt himself compelled to undo his coat and lower his scarf, taking more daring measures such as taking the scarf off altogether as well. "It's like an oven in here." he proclaimed.

"You'll get used to it" she informed him.

As he finally found himself able to observe his surroundings, he found them most unusual. A plethora of boxes were stacked all around, some labeled and some left without a shred of identification. Most of the stacks went as tall as the ceiling, a good 15 feet from the ground floor. There were so many that whoever put them there had to improvise, placing a few in a most creative fashion so that they might fit in the lobby. The beautiful stone walls were now blocked from view by the mountain of wooden crates. He looked curiously at Noel, who, after recognizing his gaze, turned to him with an equal sense of wonderment, however not for the same reason.

"What's up with the boxes?"

"Winter cleaning"

"_Winter _cleaning? Don't they usually clean around spring time?"

"What's the point in cleaning around spring time? You spend all your time outside. During the winter you're too bored to do anything but clean."

He nodded in agreement, thus ending the short sputter of conversation. He did indeed hate standing around awkwardly, doing anything would be better than that.

"Noel! Is that you?" called a voice from somewhere in the building.

"Yeah!" she called back. Addler had never seen her raise her voice, even when to simply shout in response.

Felicia came from one of the corridors, an "ah!" escaping her as she fluttered towards the party of two. She inquired into how the trip went.

"Roads were bad" Noel answered firmly.

"Bad, eh? Well, at least you kept dry!"

Addler joined in with a simple "Not quite"

"Oh?" Felicia asked with both intrigue and concern.

"Couldn't find the roof to the kubelwagen" the grey-haired lady explained with as little elaboration as one could conceivably allow.

She gasped. "Noel, perhaps you should change into your fatigues? It'd be nice to get those damp clothes off, wouldn't you agree?" She nodded and went to her room.

With her departure, Felicia turned the remaining person in her company. "Addler..." she said with a facade of a smile, obviously trying to hide something; her efforts were quite visible. "I'm happy to see you back. Perhaps you should change as well?"

He took off his greatcoat, revealing a slightly thinner woolen jacket. "The snow and sleet didn't get down to the coat" he insisted, hinting at the under-layer which was his regular army tunic. She nodded in agreement.

"Are you alright?" he asked, "You seem unnerved." Although it was quite obvious to him that it was he who upset her in some manner which he could not identify, he still went along with the regular and cliché formalities of everyday conversation. Although he was technically her superior, if battlefield promotions were of any worth, he felt her to be the leader of the squad and thus the leader of _him _as well, his arms being placed behind his back and his head slightly lowered as he felt slightly ashamed for reasons which were yet unknown to him besides the fact that she seemed out of the ordinary, and only towards him.

"Nothing" she answered, a blushful smile returning to her face as she placed a hand on his shoulder. Come, I'll get the rest of the girls, we should have brunch!"

"Since when do you guys have brunch?"

"Well, since now!" she responded, clapping her hands in joy and excitement. "Oh, I'll go get the broth ready!" With that she disappeared down the hall, thus he was left alone in the lobby, looking around as if he was to find some companion to turn to for insight or conversation.

As he made his way down the hall to the dining hall, he felt unnerved. Felicia had an almost unnatural ability to hide what she was really thinking. She always had another trick up her sleeve. She could easily put up an almost-impenetrable facade of joviality and bliss, her true feelings being quite impossible to wrestle out; they were only able to be revealed when _she _wanted them to be revealed.

-An Hour or So Later-

"Lunch is ready!"

With that the family filed into the small dining hall, sitting down at their seats, Addler's having recently been moved beside Aisha's, to take their meal. The need beforehand for Noel's wet clothes to be washed and a desperate attempt to rekindle a dying fire during the middle of winter postponed the meal to a more common hour of consumption: noon.

"Soup and fried potatoes for us all" Felicia announced, setting a large bowl full of sliced and fried potatoes in the middle of the table. Hands quickly grabbed at the food to be placed beside their steaming bowls of soup. "They're an excellent source of carbohydrates!"

Addler, being one who cared only for potatoes if they were in fried form, committed himself to taking more than the bare minimum serving of what could be considered a meal; this was for him a very rare happening. He looked around the table to observe his companions as he hungrily sipped his spoonfuls of soup. His gaze eventually fell upon Aisha, who was pounding her potatoes into mush with her utensil.

"Haven't you ever learned not to fancy yourself with yer food?" he asked playfully.

"I'm not" she replied with a raised eyebrow. "It's common for us to eat them like this"

"Didn't you grow up in Rome, Addler?" Kureha asked with an argumentative tone.

"I grew up on the Roman _side of the border_, if that's what you mean."

"So you're Roman? You don't even know your own customs?"

"Kureha..." Rio warned her, a firm glare reaching across the table.

He sighed. "My parents moved 'cause of my dad's job over to Helvetia. Thirteen years later, they had me. Whatever miniscule and unimportant Roman customs they had, I assume they were discarded for the sake of cultural appropriation."

"To think we could've been at Vingt together" Aisha whispered with a chuckle.

Minutes of continuous eating followed, Addler helping himself to numerous servings of potatoes, his companions allowing so generously out of the knowledge that such instances were very rare, before once again conversation struck up.

"Did you miss Felicia's cooking?"

Addler looked up to see Rio looking at him with a curious grin about her. He said that he did indeed, stating the food at Semaine was quite bland. "I'm certain there were bigger rations during the sieges"

"So what was it like in the nuthouse?" Kureha asked once more.

Rio gave her another stare of condemnation, this one having all the intentions of forfeiting her neutrality in order to ensure that civility and politeness would be maintained. Kureha sunk in her seat in the smallest of measures, not willing to expose her embarrassment to the rest of the table.

Addler looked at her with a raised eyebrow, wondering both if she was serious in her question and if he was willing enough to give her an answer. He looked around the table briefly, everyone having hushed their eating in the face of what they knew, all except Kureha, to be a sensitive topic. He decided to humor her; he was all the more happy to inform her. He dreaded the awkward silence.

"Most were crazy or withdrawn, a few were friendly. The frustration of being treated like a toddler who couldn't be trusted to walk himself to the bathroom. The place was enlightened enough to encourage interaction between the patients, englightened enough to let us walk around outside, in the compound, of course, but what sane man would want to spend time with a bunch of crazies? Ai..."

He stopped and turned to Aisha, unsure if she'd be okay with him dragging her into this conversation. His eyes were focused away, as usual, occasionally looking at her eyes for a second to show that he did respect her enough to give her what he gave only to those he felt comfortable around. She blushed and chimed in herself.

"He was always eager to see me, you'd think I was his own mother" she said with a playful snicker.

"Again, any sane man would do the same if he was forced into his own voluntary isolation when confronted with a house full of crazies!" he defended himself."

"And the food was bad?" Rio asked for confirmation.

"As bland was one could conceivably make it. I learned they don't even allow salt for nutritional reasons. How the hell do you make _anything _without salt!?"

"Excuse me," Felicia broke in, rising from her seat and pushing it in.

"Where are you going?" Rio asked, everyone's eyes turned to the soon-to-be departed.

"I need to get some work done." she explained briefly, taking her leave.

-Not Long After-

Addler approached the door to Felicia's office. He had spent the time since lunch in continuous contemplation as to whether he should approach her and how to do it if he chose to. Why? He knew something was up with her.

He knew it could very well turn into a puzzle game, a game in which one has to interpret the veil of deceit and aversion that Felicia always uses when she wants something to be kept under the radar. It's not necessarily the inability to sense her discontent, but to crack her into submission was an entirely different story. Truth be told, he did consider the possibility that she was adamant opposed to confessing whatever troubled her, however such concerns were dismissed with the belief that he'd pick up on such an adamant opposition.

He knocked politely.

"Who is it?" came the question. He responded with an answer which he had prepared. "Rio wanted to tell you something about that company report you're going to have to do."

Silence reigned for a few seconds before footsteps could be heard approaching the door. The door knob turned and open. "Come in" she insisted with a smile. He had intentions of doing so one way or another anyway, so he was glad that the task was accomplished without a struggle.

"So, what did Rio want?"

"You're smart, you know?"

She looked at him confused.

He sighed. He had for a long while suppressed the free flowing compassionate emotions, especially when it came to an actual conversation. He had for so long indirectly shunned the idea of talking with others about intimate topics such as one's feelings, for he had long ago learned the belief that such topics were largely unwanted, or at least not so much unwanted as they were not something to be thrown about like candy. True, he still possessed the desire to help, but did he possess the ability to remove the awkward anxiety, the biting fear of uncomfortableness to get through to her? He knew not.

"You're not only smart in general, but you're smart when it comes to being able to hide your emotions. You're a master of deception. Is it detectable? For me, yes, sometimes. But is it penetrable? Oh how I wonder."

"What are you saying?" she asked calmly, regaining her composure as if she was attempting to pull the veil over her once more

"Ever since I entered the door, you've been acting weird around me, and seemingly towards me alone. If I've done something wrong.." he took a pause and changed from an aggressive to a passive tone. "I want you to tell me"

"Have you thought that?" she asked, "I didn't mean for you to think it. No, everything's fine, I'm happy you're back!"

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Felicia," he said slowly, his breath heavy and his tone sympathetic and entirely passive and stance on the watch to go on the defense. "I want to respect you and your desire to keep your feelings to yourself. Why? Because I respect you as my friend and as the leader of the platoon. If I'm assigned here, then _you _are my CO, even if not by rank. But I ask you to consider: I'm the kind of guy who like to settle issues. I don't want a friendship to be hindered by an undisclosed trifle. If there's something bothering you... if not for the sake of our friendship, for the sake of my own sanity, tell me, please."

She looked at him still, her neutral expression turned into a frown that knew the gig was up.

"You shouldn't have left Semaine, Addler" she said calmly and sweetly as she commonly did with all else.

"I need therapy with someone I can care about..."

She took a pause, unsure if she should continue or not. "You needed therapy with a _trained professional_."

"I don't want to fight," he explained with sincerety, "but I know that Kanata, Rio, and I even believe Aisha would do a better job at fighting alongside me than a doctor."

"We don't know anything about psychology, Addler" she said firmly.

"But I do!" he insisted in response. "I've been schooled in it, amateurly to where I know only the basics of how the brain works, sleep, memory, and the operations of various disorders, but I know enough to solve my own problems. My teacher taught me well"

"He taught you how to be a certified psychologist?"

"He taught me about the theories of therapy" he corrected. "Client-based therapy is the most affective and the most sensible. That's what I _need _to do. The patient helps himself, he doesn't depend on a shrink to take his problems away, it only creates dependence on either the medicine or the shrink"

She said nothing, but looked up at him.

He put his hands on both of her shoulder, and for one of the rare times maintained unbroken eye contact. "I've been schooled, and that schooling as taught me that a patient needs to help himself."

"I've got this" he said.

She looked at him with solid, light blue eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded.


End file.
